


Begin the Beguine

by qaffangyrl



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, M/M, pre-Countrycide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qaffangyrl/pseuds/qaffangyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto POV fic, half backstory-half pre-Countrycide. Ianto struggles with his desire for Jack in the wake of Lisa's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Begin the Beguine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in July, 2008

Camping. The word glares at you as you sit, a bit stunned, in front of your plasma computer screen. Really, has Jack gone completely nuts? The fact that you, the duplicitous tea-boy, are the closest thing Team Torchwood has to an outdoorsman should answer that question. 

You’re certain the Captain has his reasons. _Lord knows what they are,_ but you are in absolutely no position to question his motives. As enigmatic as Jack Harkness is, he’s never been as flagrantly deceptive as you’ve been since that fateful night when you first made your presence in Cardiff known to him. 

Each night before you go to sleep, you still wonder if you’ll wake up with amnesia, having no memory of Torchwood, or the Battle…or even of your beloved Lisa. Is it crueler that he’s letting you remember, rather than making you forget? That question crossed your mind more than a few times when you first returned to the Hub after your suspension. 

You had prepared yourself for the pitying looks from Gwen, the aloofness from Tosh and the open hostility from Owen, but the fact that Jack seemed to have to force himself even set his eyes on you left you feeling gutted.

As you begin to make your list of the gear the team would need for the trip out to Brecon Beacons your mind wanders back to the beginning. 

He’d hired you. Objective one had been met. Two: secure a hiding place for Lisa. Check. Three: make yourself indispensable. 

Years ago, during orientation at your first temp job, the brassy ginger woman showing you around had said, “if you want to stay off the dole all you have to do is find one thing. One thing that you do better than anyone else. That way they can’t live without you. Me? I type 100 words a minute, I do! No one whips up a memo faster than yours truly! Half these old sods don’t where the on button is on their computers. Without me, they’d be helpless! And if god forbid, I do get the sack, then my 100 words a minute puts my CV right on the top of the stack I’m back at work in no time. Take it from old Donna, find that one thing you do better than anyone It’s the key to job security.”

Making the perfect cup of coffee had been your key to job security. At least as far as Jack Harkness was concerned. But coffee kept the Captain awake, _if he ever slept at all_ and that had made your primary goal all the more difficult. So, you’d had to resort to more drastic measures. After every time it would happen, you’d tell yourself you’d done it for Lisa. And while it was true you’d have done anything to save and protect her, the thought of Lisa never crossed your mind when you were lying in the Captain’s bed. 

The morning of the excursion out to the Welsh countryside, you reached into the back of your closet in search of your nap sack and other personal camping gear. After pushing your growing collection of suits aside you find the bag you’re looking for, but the strap slips through your fingers. When it lands on the floor, a box of condoms falls out of the side pocket and slides across your bedroom floor. 

As you bent over to pick up the box you noticed the date on the side of the packaging. They’re expired. You’d been camping with her the weekend before …before it happened. You stare down at the date. Had it been that long? That long since the battle? That long since you’d made love to Lisa? Or any woman for that matter. She’d been the only one… the only person you’d ever slept with who’d loved you. 

Girls were just so difficult to talk to. And while you did fancy them in general, you found that boys, well, certain boys, were more pragmatic when it came to sex. You could have a wank with another bloke without it having to mean something. But when you first left Wales, you realized how truly alone you were. The thought of wandering some London park for a bit of anonymous cottaging was so off-putting that you’d resolved to grow up and find yourself a proper girlfriend. As it turned out, it was Lisa who found you. 

“You owe me twenty quid.” She’d said as she rested her hands on her hips.

You barely managed to keep from choking on your chips as you looked up at her from your lunch in astonishment. “Sorry?” 

“Twenty quid.” She repeated as she held out a hand to accept her money. “Let’s have it, then.” 

Was the girl daft, you’d thought. You’d only worked at Canary Wharf for three weeks and you hadn’t spoken a word to this person in that time. Noticed her? Yes. Spoken to her? Absolutely not.“For what?” 

“I bet Adeola that you’d ask me down the pub, what with the way you’ve been staring at me bum since the day you were hired. I told her by the end of your third week here, you’d certainly have made a date with me. But you haven’t. So, you owe me twenty quid.” 

Being completely mortified and entirely at a loss for anything to say, you’d reach into your pocket for your wallet when she started again, this time with a sly smile, “I’ll take your money. But I’d rather you spend it on me. Over dinner?” 

“Fine.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Tonight. Eight. O’Malley’s Pub. You know it?” 

You nod in the affirmative. 

Her smile nearly blinded you when she’d said. “See you there.” 

She was gone now. And God help you because as much as you missed her, you missed the feel of Jack’s hands on your skin even more. 

You toss the box of condoms in the bin next to your bed. You had a fresh box in your desk at the Hub. It’s never been opened. Jack assured you there was no need. 

“Wait.” You’d said. He’d watched Suzie, Owen and Tosh leave for the night through the Tourist office, waved goodbye to them, then locked the door. The wicked grin on his face when he turned to face you had made you instantly hard. You’d found yourself on your knees in his office on more than one occasion _followed by Jack generously reciprocating,_ but earlier, on that particular day, he’d made it abundantly clear that he intended to up the ante. “Your message said you’d be keeping me busy all night?” 

“That’s right.” The look on Jack’s face was nothing short of predatory.

“Right,” You exhaled before continuing, “So, I picked these up at the chemist when I was out getting your dry cleaning.” You handed him the box of condoms, knowing that you’d never have the nerve to say, _Yes Jack. You can fuck me._

“You like using these?” He asked as he opened the box and pulled out a wrapped condom. He inspected it as if he’d never seen one before.

“They’re necessary.” 

“Oh.” Jack nodded knowingly. “If you’re worried about getting pregnant, I completely understand. It’s such a hassle. My tailor bill alone…” 

You rolled your eyes. “So you’ve said. And while I’m quite certain I’m at no risk of finding myself in the family way as it were, I still think it’s prudent that we use them.” 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at you so you quickly added, “For both our sakes.” 

Jack shrugged, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been vaccinated. I’m impervious to any transmittable disease that’ll come or go for the next three millennia.” 

“Torchwood One’s medical division didn’t have that sort of bio-tech.” You countered incredulously.

“I never said I got it from Torchwood.” 

Something in his eyes told you Jack was losing interest in the conversation and if you pressed the issue you worried that he’d lose interest in you. You believed your own lie when you told yourself you’d prefer it that way. But, lack of sex made Jack restless. And a restless Jack, wandering the sublevels of the Hub, was something you simply couldn’t have. “Okay. If you say we don’t need them. We don’t.” 

Regardless of what Jack told you, you knew you were putting your very life at risk. But considering that working for Torchwood meant you’re life was put at risk on pretty much a daily basis, you reckoned that having unprotected sex with Jack Harkness should be the least of your worries.

The morning of the trip up North to investigate the missing persons reports you arrive at the Hub even earlier than usual. 

As you pull into the underground parking structure you see Jack already at work loading up the SUV. He turns and waves at you merrily and calls out in a booming voice. “Morning!” He smiles at you. It’s not a smirk, or one of his many rakish grins but a genuine smile- as if he’s actually happy to see you. You never thought you’d see that look on his face again. The elation you feel is quickly squelched by an overwhelming sense of guilt. 

When you get out of your car he asks, “So, you ready to brave the elements?”

“I’m always ready, sir.” 

He turns from the back of the vehicle and crosses his arms over his chest. With a crooked brow Jack replies, “I seem to remember that.” His tone drips with insinuation. 

When you don’t respond with a clever quip the look on Jack’s face becomes that of confusion, “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s just…you’ve not. I mean we haven’t…not since…Not since, I came back to work. I didn’t think…now that you know the truth…that you still…still wanted to…with me, I mean…” 

“You’re babbling, Ianto.” 

“Am I?” 

Jack lets out a little laugh. “Yeah. And I have to say, it’s kind of adorable.” 

And then it occurs to you that maybe the only reason he wants you on this mission is so you can share his tent. The idea excites you as much as it horrifies you. You’re horrified because you realize in that moment how much you want him. “Sir, is it your intention that we proceed with our earlier arrangement?”

In typical Jack fashion he ignores your question. Instead, he studies you for a second, then sidles up to close the space between you. “I want to ask you something.” 

“Of course,” You say with confidence, but you die a little inside because you know what he is going to ask.

“Why did you let me take you to bed?” 

You take a deep breath. “I knew you were interested.” 

“I’m _interested_ in everyone.” A hint of sadness settles in his eyes. He’s asking you if you played him. It’s the first you’ve ever seen Captain Jack Harkness look the slightest bit insecure.

You owe him the truth. The problem is, you’re still not certain you know what the truth is. You decide the best course of action is to just start talking, in the hopes that he can make sense of what you’re trying to say. “When you said I could come back, you told me the past was the past.” 

“It is.” 

“But if I forget her. It’s as if I’ve failed her all over again.” 

“Look, Ianto. I didn’t know Lisa. But I imagine that she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this.” 

“She became a killer because of me. I could have helped her die with dignity…while she still had an ounce of humanity left in her.” 

“She became a killer because of the murderous scum that invaded this planet. The way I reckon it, the work you do here…to protect Earth…is the best way to honor her memory. And Torchwood needs you.” 

“You think I’m an asset?”

“You conned me for the better part of a year. Maybe two or three people in the whole of time and space could do the same.”

There’s no disdain in his voice when he says this so, to clarify, you ask, “Is that meant to be a compliment, sir?” 

Jack slaps his hand down on your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have been surprised…I’ve always had a bit of a kink for the nefarious sort.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “I’m flattered.” 

“And I’m known for being good at sweet talk.” Jack boasts. “But if you need time…I’m in no rush.” 

“If we were to pick things up where we left off…”

“Yeah?” Jack asks hopefully.

“I think it best if we remain discreet. I’ve far from proven my loyalty to the team and if they saw me as your plaything then I don’t think I’d ever been taken seriously.” 

Jack winces at the word ‘plaything’ but he just nods and says, “If that’s the way you want it. I understand.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So, this weekend…if we get a bit of free time.” His eyebrow finishes the sentence for him. 

Your face flushes at the thought of his lips on yours. “Perhaps, sir. Perhaps.” 

During the drive out, Owen complains, Tosh loses herself in her computer scans, and Jack and Gwen make small talk while you think about everything you’ve lost in the last several weeks. You’ve fallen into the pit of Hell. You deserve to be there. But Jack has offered you a lifeline…as much as you want to reach out and grab hold, you don’t know if you’ll, ever again, be ready. 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated.


End file.
